Love L.O.D. – Song and Lyrics by 50 Grand


Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Love L.O.D.’ by 50 Grand. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 50 Grand or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.


Yo I seen them motherfuckers out in the street

Them pussy asses

(Man f*ck them niggas anyway)

Hood rats and those fat rolly polly punks

[Keith Murray:]

Yo Kel (What up?) yo answer this question

Why are we the nicest in this fuckin’ profession?

[Kel Vicious: ]

Yo it’s um simple philosophy

Doe ray me fa so love L.O.D. (yeah yeah)

Aye yo 50 (What’s up?) answer this question (What’s that?)

Why are you the best in your profession?

[50 Grand:]

Now when I’m creepin’ on a bitch M.C.

Doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.

Keith Murray (Yo, what’s up 50?) answer the question? (What’s that?)

Why are you be the sickest in this profession?

[Keith Murray:]

I been all around the world hearing the wack M.C.’s

It’s doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.

(Aye yo) Ask yourself the very same question

Why are we the wickedest in this profession?

[50 Grand: ]

I’m breaking back with Def Squad constantly

Doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.

Any nigga want to step, get busy

Doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.


I be the bushwa freaker coming thourgh your speaker

My jams be getting stronger

While your shit be gettin’ weaker

Now Kel be playin’ kids like the NY Knicks

Taking it to your ass with these rhymes and shit

Cause kids contradict themselves when they be rhymning

Sounding like shit, off beat with no timing

[50 Grand: ]

Now soon as I touch the paper, see you later

I shut your lights off like a blackout

So hit the circuit breaker

I’m the worst trouble you ever had

Vocab like knife stabs

Comin’ wild killin’ in a paragrah

Holding niggas ransom, it runs in my blood

Maybe my grandson might be wild like Charles Manson

[Keith Murray:]

I be the gimmie, the got ya

Been blastin’ niggas way before the remix “I shot ya”

The proper hip hopper, fading em in the Palladium

And bustin’ each and every nigga, bubble in the Tunnel

After the sunshine comes the rain

Hold up, wiat a minute, let me back up and just explain

[Hook: ]

I been all around the world

What battle me?

Take this autograph home and give it to your family

All I hear is booty stinkin’ ass wack M.C.’s

Stricly doe, ray, me, fa, so, love L.O.D.

[50 Grand:]

Nigga your life means nothing to me, challenge L.O.D.

The average nigga style sucks like a hickey

50 G, the M.C.’s brain buster, mic crusher

Dirty money quicker picke upper, crew duster

Now that L.O.D.’s up in this motherfucker

Leave a known rapper with Broken English

Like Smooth Da Hustler

[Keith Murray:]

Some thing make a nigga laugh, make his ass cry

He rolled a seven

I bet it all he turned around and rolled snake eyes

My thinking cap is bigger htan a fuckin’ Sade’s

Stay all-terrain, rainin’ on all parades

The street is my bed and the corner is my pillow

I’ll kill your fuckin’ ass and for your crew I’ll do ditto


I’ll leave a nigga dead, and stinkin’ take his soul

Cha-boom, cha-boom fill him up with holes

Natural born killer, iller than the rest

(Where you at?) East coast to west

I keep it real kid, I freak the flow until it’s naked

Niggas get paniced and frantic and can’t take it